Ghost Song(AHeartlessNobody and RhythmWriter)

[AHeartlessNobody]

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*Inspired by Disney's Tower of Terror*

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Claira Blair Foster. She was beautiful, smart, talented. Everyone loved her. She started out as an outcast with nothing to her name and very quickly became the person everyone around the world adored. When she was sixteen, she started traveling around and playing music in different places. Everyone fell head over heels with her and fought for tickets to see her. She was the new thing and all focus was on her, making quite a few other artists, and some people close to her, sour and jealous, though none of them let on about it.


On September the first, 1994, she was assigned to play at a very large and surprising high class hotel, which normally didn't happen for her(she normally played for younger ad more upbeat crowds. But, she never ones to turn down a show and accepted, coming to the hotel in high spirits. The band set up their things, played a couple of songs and people were enjoying themselves. While the band played a little, she mingled, saying hello to the people there and sipping on a drink until she was called up to the stage to perform. She walked up the stairs, to the microphone, and the crowd seemed very interested to hear her sing. It was turning out to be a very good night for her.


Until the chandelier fell.


The chandelier fell from the ceiling, killing the twenty year old star in her prime. Through out the next year many strange things happened at that hotel. Music started playing from no where, lights would flicker. And more shockingly, anytime they tried to hang a new chandelier it would either fall within the next day, or be broken into pieces where it hung. Finally falling into the belief that the hotel was haunted by the beautiful star that died there, the hotel shut down not even two years after the incident.


Now, twenty years later a young man, greatly inspired by the american sweet heart that died, wants to go see the last place that their favorite star before the hotel is torn down. So, he goes to the rundown and scary hotel, only to find that maybe the young woman might still be there, looking for something that might entertain her in her never ending life after death, and maybe even a way out of her dim and ghostly prison.
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[AHeartlessNobody]

How long had it been? Since she had been locked up in this dusty prison called the White Rose Hotel? She was sure it was at least nineteen years. Or...was it twenty? She backed up from her hotel room window she had been staring out of and looked to the wall on her right. There on that wall was tiny scratches. Each scratch represented a day and whenever the scratches were boxed all together in a group, it was a year. She walked silently over to it, counting rather quickly the boxes and nodded to herself. Twenty years. Almost twenty one. The anniversary of her death was in two days. Not that it was something to celebrate. No, it was something that she dreaded. Something that forced horrible emotions upon her.


It was horrible. Living the same nightmare every day, trapped within this dark and lifeless hotel, was nothing she had ever wished for. She had done so well. She had worked herself up. She had once been a nobody, living from home to home where she was just the unwanted girl. Every pair of foster parents she had never cared for her. They would be happy about having her there at first, but then get rid of her in a month or two. She remembered once in an interview describing it as being a toy to them. They would get a shiny new child, care for them and spend a lot of time with them, but when that child got old, had something wrong with them, or a newer child came along, the old child would be tossed to the side and given to someone else. That was how the foster system had always worked and Claira was no exception. She was well liked at first, but tossed aside when she was just getting to enjoy her new homes.


But, she had gotten away from all of that finally. Her manager, a very kind and loving man and his motherly wife had adopted her, made her a part of the family. And then it all ended. Just when she had the life she had always wanted and things were going so well for her, it was all snatched away from her in one instant. In one horrible night that she had to live over and over again. It was a never ending horror that had gone on for twenty years, never ceasing and never letting her go.


Turning away from her time wall, she walked to the corner of the room, where on the vanity sat a beautiful silver music box. The box was covered in dust and webs, but to her, it was still so lovely and she cherished it. Smiling slightly, she reached out and ran her fingers across it, and though she could feel the cool metal, her touch did nothing to disturb the dust or webs on it. Her slender and pale fingers traced the edges until they found the key sticking in the back. Turning the key slowly until it was cranked all the way, she let go of it and the top to the box opened, reviling a pretty ballerina that spun and played a twinkling tune. The tune was eerily echoing through the room and the halls of the hotel. And though this would have been scary for any person who would dare come into the building, it was nothing to her. No, if anything it was calming. She laughed softly to herself, swaying with the tune as she spun and danced, just like she remembered her mother doing when she was young. Her mother used to play this for her every night before bed to help her sleep, so it was no shock that this music played every night within the hotel. It was one of the things that had scared people off and one of the reasons she had this whole hotel to herself. No one had dared to into her home in over fifteen years, whether it be from fear of the ghost stories, or from fear of the floors and roofs of the building caving in, she wasn't sure. but either way, she was alone, for the better or the worse.


Finally, the music from the box had died down and faded softly until it stopped all together. It was when the music had gone that she heard just what she expected to hear, just as she did every night. Music. It was happy and swinging. Laughter and chatted, mixed with t he clanging of plates and glasses were mixed in as well. The party in the ballroom started at eight every night, just as it had the night she had died, and ended with...well...her death. It was something she couldn't get away from. She had tired. If she stayed away, she was forcibly dragged to her spot on stage by an unseen force. The party called for her. The memory, as over replayed as it was, needed her and didn't take no for an answer.


Sighing, the young woman walked from her room, and silently down the old stairs. The whole hotel was falling apart. There were broken floor boards, fallen rafters, cob webs and rats, broken glass, and dust everywhere. The ball room, when eight struck, was extremely out of place. It transformed from its old and shabby appearance, into something glorious and lively. People stood all around, laughing and having a swell time. And when Claira entered, all the focus was on her. People stopped her and spoke with her while she simply drank juice from a wine glass and spoke back with a soft smile on her face, as if nothing was wrong. As if she didn't know what would come. She had found that after many years, she couldn't run from this and it was better and easier to just play along. And so she did. She laughed, mingled, listened to the music, and then came her time. The host got on the stage with a hue smile and announced she would be coming up to perform for them.


She took a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face, walking up the stairs to the stage, "Thank you. For my first song I will be...." She trailed off though because something wasn't right. Something was...off. She had seen this memory so many times that the young man in the back, wearing clothes and looking completely out of context seemed to catch her eye and her attention was pulled to him. Her smile slowly faded into a confused frown as she tilted her head to the side, "Who are you?"


And though she spoke this, no one else noticed the boy. That was because though, all of this had happened. These people standing all around weren't really there. It was just her, and this new person. She stared at this boy intensely with her shockingly blue eyes for a moment as she stepped down from the stage, approaching so soundlessly that her footsteps didn't even make a noise as if they didn't even connect with the floor beneath them, and stood in front of him, studying him closely for a moment, "You don't belong here."


Then, the grandfather clock struck ten and a slight panic ran over Claira. She knew what that meant and she dread this every time. One minute she was standing in front of this intruder and the next she was on the stage in front of the microphone, and as hard as she obviously tried to fight this unseen force from keeping her there, her feet wouldn't budge. When this happened, her scared blue eyes looked above her, in time to see the chandelier fall and right when it made contact with her, everything in the room shifted in a sudden gust of wind and the whole ballroom was its old run down and dirty self.


When the boy turned around, the beautiful Claira stood in double doorway of the ballroom, looking so angry and so furious that this intruder human was here in her domain that it was as if she she was ready to kill, "Leave."


With those words, the two doors slammed shut and she was gone.